Another Form of Relief

Wow, I was certain that these guys had broken up. The last album I heard from them was the one that the song below is taken from, and that was released more than three years ago. It seems they must have fallen off my radar completely at some point though as there’s apparently another album that I didn’t even know existed. I guess you really do learn something every day.

Goodnight Goodnight is a break-up song. There’s little more to it than that. No hidden meanings, no witty wordplay, nothing bubbling under the surface. It’s your usual girl breaks up with boy, boy gets bitter and throws out her shitty records kind of story. I don’t usually have time for bands putting out straight up, radio friendly rock songs, but Hot Hot Heat are the kind of band that thrive on them. Or they used to be. It could have all gone to hell with the last album for all I know.

Here’s something shocking: Elliott Smith isn’t as depressing as you think he is. Sure, his songs frequently deal with addiction, abuse and heartbreak. Sure, his entire life and death has an air of tragedy about it all. Sure, some of the music is just downright miserable. Despite all this though, I still don’t find him half as depressing as the bulk of the current crop of Pitchfork or blog favourites. Some Song isn’t the most cheerful of songs. The themes above all seem to make it into it’s two minute length. The wordplay on offer makes it more than worthwhile though. The fact that this was actually a b-side gives a sense of just how damn talented this guy was.

Every band I’ve ever loved has let me down eventually
The worst album will always be the last one
It’s a grower, yeah, but it never grew on me

I really should stop writing about Nosferatu D2. They never recorded anything properly and only played a handful of gigs, the last of which was a year and a half ago. Yet I still keep coming back to them.

It was the above lines in A Footnote that brought me back this time. I don’t know if it’s just the way things work, but it certainly holds true to my own tastes. Perhaps it’s the constant search for the next favourite that makes the previous one lose their appeal quickly. It could be something else entirely. It’s true though. There are a ton of bands where I adored the first album or two and now don’t even bother listening to what they put out. When I do listen, I tend to regret it and return to the older stuff. Maybe all bands should break up after one album or a set time period or something. It would certainly keep things fresh.

So I don’t know whether or not I’m saddened by the loss of Nosferatu D2 so quickly. Ben Parker is definitely one hell of a songwriter and is doing good stuff within his Superman Revenge Squad project. It’s kind of a shame that we won’t get to see what ND2 would have come up with, but at least they can’t eventually let me down.

I wanna pop like it’s ‘94
I want whiny vocals, distortion and hooks galore

Hartley Goldstein was one of the very first artists I wrote about on this blog, two and a half years ago. Unfortunately, in the time since then, he seems to have put out absolutely nothing new. Which is a shame, as there are few people who can make fun, punchy and most importantly, literate pop like this. Brad Wood is a love song to the famous producer that throws in references to just about everyone he was associated with from Ben Lee to That Dog to Liz Phair. All done in a way that does sound fifteen years out of date, which is certainly no bad thing.

I usually shy away from posting videos on here because it’s supposed to be all about the music and shit. I’m happy to make an exception in this case though. Johnny Foreigner are my favourite band at the moment. Salt, Peppa and Spinderella is my favourite Johnny Foreigner song. And this just may be my favourite music video ever. Seriously, I usually dislike videos, but I’ve watched this one over and over.

Constructed from over 68,000 individual photos on a digital camera, I dread to think the amount of hours that must have gone into it. In fact, now that I think about it, are there any videos that have more quick cuts than this one? It’d be pretty hard to beat this. Watch it in full screen and you may find yourself becoming slightly dizzy. Which suits the song perfectly well. Bring out the real fun. TURN ON THE REAL DRUMS.

If there is one thing we need more of, it’s vaguely creepy sounding stalker songs. Although, now that I think about it, Highschool Stalker sounds like it could be far creepier than it really is. Our narrator is obviously obsessed with her target, going to lengths like checking on his school grades, visiting his ex-girlfriends and even dropping in on his mother. Which would be pretty scary if not for the last lines that prove she isn’t really a threat after all.

It’s all rather upbeat and clappy, something else that probably helps the subject matter seem perfectly normal. By this point it’s already a little dated (”I’ve been on the Alta Vista” would probably be something about Facebook these days), but that doesn’t really matter. You’re too drawn in to worry about such details. By the end of the song, it doesn’t matter how strange her behaviour may be. You just want her to succeed in her quest.

Sara Radle, the lead singer of Calamity Magnet, used to be in The Rentals. I’m not sure what it means that despite this I’ve never heard of her previously, but I have more than one press release telling me that it’s true. No matter though. I’d have been none the wiser had I not been told either, as this certainly doesn’t sound like The Rentals.

Calamity Magnet want to sing sixties style pop songs. Granted they are a little more polished than you may have found back then, but the focus is all on sugar sweet harmonies and gentle words. Despite seemingly being around forty years late to the party, it all seems to work well enough. I’d probably find it all a little too much if confronted with an entire album like this, but as a short, sharp shot of throwback pop, Baby, You Forgot does the job admirably.

The Flops make me sad. Not necessarily in a bad way, but sad nonetheless. The fact they don’t exist anymore doesn’t help, but the worst part is the feeling that they were the closest thing to ever sound like Trip Shakespeare. This isn’t really all that surprising given that both members of The Flops, Matt Wilson and John Munson, were in that band. I maintain that Trip Shakespeare are one of the most criminally underrated bands of the last twenty years.

The Flops, while never quite managing those dizzy heights, have that wonderful feel of nostalgia about them. They never formally recorded anything in the four years they performed, only putting out a live album instead. This was largely made up of performances of Trip Shakespeare and Matt Wilson material, with a few other bits thrown in. In 2005, The Flops project was deemed over and a new band was supposed to rise from the ashes. It never did. John Munson now plays in a jazz band, while no one seems to know what Matt Wilson is doing. Which is a shame as he is a ridiculously talented singer-songwriter.

This song may not work for you if you’re unfamiliar with the original, but it should hold up on it’s own. A mournful tale of the one that got away, supported by nothing more complex than a gently strummed guitar. If one song could pin down melancholy perfectly, this would be it.

Great British Hopes collects the best bands from THE WORLD OF TOMORROW!

Posting about Kotki Dwa on here has been a long time coming. I originally intended to write about them when I first came up with Great British Hopes last year, but never managed to find the time. Still, nine months on and they still sound as good as they did in the first place.

The band are a three-piece from Bristol, Leeds and Milton Keynes, because being from one place is just so last year. They make straight up indie rock with just a dash of electronica thrown in. It’s all rather to the point, and much as it may pain me to admit, radio friendly. Which when you’re as good as this, may not actually be a bad thing.

You need to get away from it all. You leave work early, head home, pack and fly to a lovely little island for a break. Then you discover that don’t really like the sun and the unfamiliar is scary. Welcome to the world of The Robot Ate Me. There’s something deeper rumbling around this song that suggests it might not all literally be about a vacation, but hey, it works on whichever level you like. It sounds good, and when I’m sitting here melting, oddly appropriate.